Silence the Beast
by lostsoul512
Summary: "You," he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Jack. It's always been you. On the island. Every day since. You're a curse, Jack. You're a sickness that has no cure."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! Skylar here. So, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but I just couldn't seem to shut up, so it's turned into more of a four-shot. Or so. I don't own Lord of the Flies. **

**Dedicated to Sheridan, as always, the Ralph to my Jack. She inspired this story when I made her mac and cheese. I swear it'll make sense. **

This should not have been so difficult.

I was blaming it on anxiety, on the way my hands kept shaking and I couldn't quite focus my thoughts. Not that I could blame myself, really. No I couldn't blame myself at all.

The kitchen was a disaster, dishes strewn across the counters, spices scattered among them. I'd had it all planned out, this expensive, elaborate dinner. Just for him. But everything was going wrong, because everything always went wrong. I was blaming it on the anxiety.

It had been ten _fucking_ years. Ten years of haunted dreams and tainted memories and pain. Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could still see it all so vividly. Like I'd never even left. Then I remembered that was the past, and I had a hard time breathing for a few minutes, and then I went on with the false sort of happiness I called life.

With a small groan, bred from my need of constant perfection, I abandoned the kitchen for the bathroom. Flicked on the lights and offered a grim smile to the reflection in the mirror. Red hair that had darkened to an auburn sort of color, blue eyes that had dimmed with the thousand secrets they held within. Muscled enough, but the constant slump made it impossible to ever truly appear as strong.

_Hold__yourself__together,_ I thought; the voice in my head was some twisted combination of sarcasm and a very real desperation. But the anxiety beast was whispering to me too-_**you**__**'**__**re**____**going**____**to**____**lose**____**it**__._ There was a small, orange bottle on the counter full of tiny pills, and as much as I wanted to pretend I didn't need them, I'd rather have swallowed my pride than have dealt with the fucking beast of anxiety. The vivid nightmares that tore me from a dead sleep in a fit of screams.

I had just wanted it to be perfect. I took out a pill and swallowed it down with a drink straight from the faucet. Because I'd done everything so, so wrong, and it had been ten years, and I figured it was about damn time to start fixing what I could.

Dinner was not one of those things. I kept telling myself that it didn't matter. I was Jack _fucking_ Merridew, and I had no one in the world to impress. But that was a lie, like most of the things I tried to convince myself of. I was always trying to impress, to make up for everything I had ever done. Or maybe for what I hadn't.

The sound of the doorbell drew me out of my tangled mess of thought. "Shit," I muttered. Digging my nails into the palms of my hands to distract myself from all the things that made up life. I took measured steps to the door of my apartment, slow enough so that I didn't seem eager, fast enough so that I didn't seem rude. I completely ignored the mess in the kitchen, because sometimes things like that just didn't really matter.

My fingertips lingered about the door knob for but a moment, and in those seconds I felt more doubt- _**he**____**doesn**__**'**__**t**____**care**____**about**____**you.**____**He**____**didn**__**'**__**t**____**even**____**remember**____**you**____**existed**__-_ than I believe I had in the last ten years put together. Then I opened the door, knowing very well that once I did there was no turning back.

Outside, the air was crisp, the sort of late night fall weather that seemed to sink right under flesh, seep into the soul. The stars above blurred right into the London city lights, till I could hardly tell where one ended and the other began.

I barely noticed it at all. My blue eyes were fixed only on the fair haired man standing in my doorway, shivering just so in his black pea coat. He raised his eyes slowly to meet my own; they were a pale green color that just seemed to display composure. He wasn't smiling, and he didn't say a word.

I myself was having a hard time finding my voice. Everything was crashing back into me, all those nights spent alone on the beaches, longing for a home we never thought we'd see again, and perhaps the feel of a hand intertwined with our own. The sound of his screams echoing off every possible surface as he ran, ran…

And now he was here. I should have been regretting ever sending that letter, that _damned_ letter telling him everything about everything, about the anxiety beast and the pills and the way the night made me feel like I should just end it all. I should have been regretting inviting him here. But I wasn't. It was as simple as that.

"Ralph," I managed to say at last. His name came out sort of strangled, gasped, and he blinked a few times in response. Then I remembered myself, and I stepped aside to usher him in.

Once in the foyer, with the door falling shut tightly behind us, Ralph unbuttoned his coat and shrugged it off his shoulders, and I held out my hands quickly to take it from him. I almost thought our hands might brush in the exchange**-**_**oh,**____**you**__**'**__**d**____**love**____**that,**____**wouldn**__**'**__**t**____**you?**__-_but things like that never happened in real life.

I felt myself breathing a sigh of discomfort. The tension between us was overwhelming. If only he would speak, say anything to acknowledge-___**he**____**doesn**__**'**__**t**____**want**____**anything**____**to**____**do**____**with**____**you**_- that he was even really here with me.

Ralph looked at me like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. "Hello," I said, perhaps a little too quickly. "I'm uh, glad you could make-"

"Are you okay?" Ralph spoke suddenly, cutting me off. Instinct told me to lash out at him, those few tendrils of annoyance and anger welling up- _**blame**____**it**____**on**____**the**____**anxiety**__-_ but I managed to push them aside. Because it had been so _fucking_ long since anyone had asked me that and meant it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, thanks to the people who marked this for alerts! I really appreciate to know that people are reading my stories. As ever, I don't own Lord of the Flies, but my English teacher does let my sign my papers as Skylar Merridew, so I'm making progress. **

"Are you okay?" He repeated, this time in a voice much softer. Delicate, somehow. "You said in your letter…" Well, he didn't need to repeat the things I'd said in my letter. And I was just left staring at him, stunned into a silent awe, because I just couldn't seem to grasp that it was impossibly, magically him. The boy I had so hated, so envied, and yet never once forgotten. Never.

"No," I whispered quietly, in a voice nearly inaudible. There was a stabbing sort of pain growing in my chest. In the back of my mind, the beast laughed- _you__'__re__weak,__Jack.__Give__into__the__darkness-_ but I did all in my power to ignore him. "No, I don't believe I am."

Ralph furrowed his brows in a thoughtful sort of frown. "I-I don't know how I can help you, exactly." Honesty laced those words. Honesty, and a raw sort of pain.

In spite of myself, I offered him a small smile. Barely more than a twitch at the corners of my lips. "You're here, aren't you?" I murmured gently. "You came to see me, even after-"

"After you tried to kill me." Ralph's voice had grown flat. His arms were suddenly crossed over his chest, over the dark green v-neck I hadn't even noticed he was wearing.

I adverted my gaze to the floor. "Yes," I muttered under my breath. "After that."

Another moment of silence came over us. This was a mistake, asking him to come here. Flashbacks ripped at the confines of my mind, flames licking at the crystalline sky as we ran, ran, screaming and crying with the loss of all innocence.

"Hey," Ralph spoke suddenly, unexpectedly. In spite of myself- _**don**__**'**__**t**____**give**____**into**____**him**_- I raised my eyes until they locked with his. "Don't think about it. Not right now."

I wasn't sure why, exactly, but those might have been the most meaningful words I'd heard in the last ten years. I managed to muster up a small smile, and Ralph smiled back, and for a moment I almost forgot about everything else. Almost.

"Well, I suppose I did invite you over for dinner," I said, when the feeling of casual comfort had passed. "Except," I added, "I'm not much of a cook, and I sort of messed everything up." I wasn't just talking about dinner, I realized, but I didn't know if Ralph realized it or not.

"I see," Ralph said. He had that sort of look in his eyes, the one that told me he was lost in thought, trying his hardest to make sense of something. He was beautiful, in a way, with his pale blonde hair and pale green eyes and slender frame that looked as if it might snap at any time. I shook my head to erase the thoughts- _**oh**____**please,**____**he**__**'**__**s**____**trapped**____**in**____**your**____**head**_- as best as I could.

"We can just go out or something," he suggested. "I can pay for it."

A swell of anger welled up in me, but I held it back as best I could. "No," I said quickly. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw a trace of amusement flicker across his face, in those damned eyes that seemed to see straight through me. Some things just never changed. "No, I invited _you_. I'll figure something out. I have…" I paused to rack my brain for all the objects in my fridge and pantry. Except there really wasn't much, because I never really had the time to consume anything but the anxiety medication. "I have some mac and cheese, I think."

Well, I'd expected Ralph to give me some sort of look, or make some comment, but I definitely did not expect what came next. Ralph, the quiet, reserved boy actually starting laughing. At me. The kind of laughter that shook the whole body, that echoed off the walls surrounding us.

"What," I asked through gritted teeth, "could possibly be so funny?"

It took him a moment to steady himself enough to reply. His laughter was like music, so fucking contagious, and even though I always felt like I was on the verge of breaking, I felt a few nervous chuckles pass through my own lips. When at last Ralph had calmed himself, he looked back to me with a new light in the depths of his depthless eyes.

"It's just strange," he said. "I spent the last ten years wondering what you were like. Who you'd become. If you'd changed at all."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of those words. "Well," I murmured softly, "what do you think of me, then?"

Ralph cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. "I'm not sure yet," he admitted.

I had to turn away from him, tear my eyes from his before I snapped. Because the fact of the matter was that not a day had gone by that I hadn't thought of him, wondered, wished, and when everything started to get too heavy, he was always the first person I wanted to help me hold the world together. Maybe our island had fallen apart, but things were different now. Maybe we could be strong enough to make it through, together.

"Well, let me know when you figure it out."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Another chappie up..sorry for the wait; this is saved on my school computer. I dont own anything, of course, except a pea coat similar to the one Ralph wears. Mmm. Ralph in a peacoat. **

Compared to the lingering chill of the foyer, the rest of my apartment was warm, calming. I offered Ralph something to drink with only some nervousness in my voice, and when he obliged I pulled down a bottle of red wine from the top of my pantry. Ralph smiled a little as I handed him a crystal glass filled with the dark liquid. Blood. It looked like blood. I felt my jaw clenching.

"So," Ralph said, sipping hesitantly at the drink, leaning against the counter. "Mac and cheese, then?" There was a simple smile toying with his lips.

"Yes, I believe so," I replied, raising my own glass to my lips. Some of the tension had worn away now, and it was easier to breathe. Every now and then I would catch myself stealing a glance at him, and I would have to look away in embarrassment- _**don**__**'**__**t**__**let**__**him**__**see**__**you.**__**Don**__**'**__**t**__**scare**__**him**__**away,**__**now.**_

Clearing my throat, I wondered if my pills would ever kick in. Or maybe the anxiety beast was just too strong, and all the medication in the world couldn't hinder my fears. I set down my glass upon the counter and went into the kitchen. Disregarding all the dishes and the great mess I had made, I pulled out a pot and filled it with water.

All the while Ralph was watching me, curiosity etched into his expression. More than once he caught me glance up at him, and then we'd both look away and pretend it had never happened.

Mostly we were silent, but somehow that was okay. There were a million things I wanted to ask him, where he had been and who he had become, whether the night was streaked with trembling terror. But just then we were reveling in the feeling of not being so alone, and that was all we needed.

When the silence became too much for him, Ralph broke it with a softly spoken sentence. "I miss it, sometimes." I stopped stirring the pasta in the boiling water, looked over my shoulder at him. Ralph placed his own glass beside mine and took a few tentative steps in my direction. The steam from the stove rose and twisted, dancing in the air around me.

"What?" I asked unsurely. "The island?"

Ralph nodded. I blinked hard to fight off all the memories, all the pain and the agony from all that we-_**you**_- we had done. "We were just so free there," he murmured. "No pressure to be perfect. No chains to hold us down. We were invincible, Jack. We could have conquered the world, you and I."

My mouth opened and closed several times, but not a sound came out. Here was the boy who had haunted me, who had tormented me relentlessly for ten years straight. The one who made my heart skip a beat, in some combination of fear and excitement. The one whose presence I so longed for, on those dark, cold nights were sleep eluded me.

Anyway, even if I'd have had something to say, I never get the chance. Because at that exact moment, Ralph closed the distance between us, fisted his hands into my tangled red hair, and pressed his lips into mine.

It's hard to describe, exactly, how I felt in that moment. A sort of fire sparked deep in the pit of my stomach. Ralph and I moved as one, lips and hands and the delicate little moans that rose from within him. I bit down gently on his lip and our tongues brushed. Somehow he managed to get me up against the wall; I was just so awed by this newfound aggression in him.

When at last we broke away, gasping for breath, clutching to each other in an unspoken sort of desperation, I could only stare at him with wide eyes, pale green to vivid blue. Ralph let out a shaky laugh, his fingers still intertwined in the curls of my hair. "I should have done that years ago," he whispered. "I regretted it every day."

I pulled him to me, crushing his slender body against my chest. "Oh, Ralph," I muttered into his fair blonde hair. "Oh, I fucking missed you. I'm so sorry for everything." And then I was being shaken by small sobs, and I was biting at the insides of my cheeks. Jack Merridew didn't cry. Yet here I was, raw vulnerability in front of the one boy who knew how to break me down.

"Jack," Ralph murmured, my name a single breath leaving his lips. Oh, my name had never sounded so sweet as it did upon his lips. "C'mon, please don't cry." His fingers brushed hair away from my tear-streaked face. I felt his lips press lightly against the skin of my forehead.

I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. "I'm so sorry," I mumbled, but Ralph wasn't hearing it at all, only pulling me towards him until our mouths collided once again and the beast went silent in my mind.

A sudden hissing sound caused us both to jump, Ralph pulling away from me quickly. We spun towards the stove, where the water had boiled out over the edges of the pot. "Shit," I groaned, because I was always screwing up, always forgetting the little things around me- _**you**__**'**__**re**__**such**__**a**__**failure,**__**aren**__**'**__**t**__**you?**__**Ralph**__**must**__**hate**__**you**_.

Ralph shrugged it off like it was no big deal whatsoever, his long, slender fingers turning the dial off and pushing the pot back off the burner. "I'm not hungry right now," he said simply. When he turned to face me again, a tiny grin was tugging at his lips. Devious, almost. Certainly teasing. It was a side of Ralph I'd never expected, never even imagined. He was the sensible one, the logical one. I was the one who acted on impulse and emotion. But suddenly I was trying to analyze every second, every passing moment, and Ralph was coming towards me with easy, measured steps.

"Okay," I said, hating the way my voice trembled under the intensity of his stare. "What do you want, then?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow, I haven't touched this in a long time. In fact, I was pretty sure I'd finished it, and then I logged on and was like, whoa. So here's another chapter, and I think it's going to be the last one. My next project is going to be a Lord of the Flies/ Fight Club crossover. I'm not crazy, I swear. Also, I don't own Lord of the Flies. **

I was standing there, watching Ralph watch me, and then he was upon me and his hands were touching my chest. "What do you want?" I repeated, softly this time. Ralph only smiled a little. My heart was thudding away beneath his fingertips, in that hollow cavity where my heart should have been.

"You," Ralph whispered. His lips found mine again, hands sliding up to cup my face, thumb moving over my jaw and cheekbones. "Oh, Jack," he murmured between kisses, between gasps for breath. "It's always been you."

For a moment, I was back on that fucking island, back before everything went to hell, when Ralph and I almost seemed like the best of friends. And then I'd tried to kill him, and when the soldiers showed up I was sure I'd never see him again. And now he was here, he was here, and I never wanted to let him go again.

With a little gasp, I threw my arms around his waist, crushing him against my body, burying my face in his neck. Ralph's fingers went up to stroke my red curls, his lips murmuring little words I didn't hear. And for once the beast inside my head was silent, and everything was right.

We might have stayed like that for hours, or maybe it was only minutes. When Ralph pulled away, my heart skipped a beat at the sudden emptiness I felt. My eyes must have been pleading, giving me away. Begging him not to go, not to leave me all alone with the monsters in my head.

But Ralph only smiled a little, reaching out for my hand. His fingers locked with my own, and, oh, they fit there so perfectly. Ten years without him. Ten haunted years wishing I could just reach out to him, hold him and tell him I was so fucking sorry. In those pale green eyes I saw all the world.

He didn't speak, only stared at me with this indescribable desire in his eyes. And I knew, I just knew what he wanted, only I was so captivated by his gaze I couldn't even move. Ralph cleared his throat a little, lowering his gaze to the linoleum floor.

"We don't…I mean, I-"

Before he could say another word, I closed the distance between us, kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth. "Come with me," I whispered. He nodded, and I pulled him along behind me, down the hallway, to the closed door at the end. Ralph's fingers gave my own a little squeeze as I turned the handle.

My bedroom was a mess of clothes strewn across the floor and blankets tumbling off the unmade bed. The curtains were drawn, but a thin trail of moonlight trickled out from the bottom. I let that light guide me in the darkness, as Ralph would guide me through the wreckage that had become my life.

There were a million and one things I wanted to say to him. Only he looked like some sort of angel in the half-light- _**like anyone could save you**_- and none would come out. In the end I only pulled him to the bed, sat down lightly upon the edge. Ralph took his place beside me, fingers hovering over my thigh. I could feel his touch right through the denim of my jeans, rushes of longing and craving and want going through my veins.

"Jack…" He whispered, so quietly, so damn beautiful. So I did the only thing I could think to do, and I let go. I let go of all the boundaries I'd built in my head to keep me from doing anymore damage. I let go of all the limits I'd set for myself, the walls I'd built to stop me from ever, ever letting anyone in again. I let go, and I pushed Ralph back onto the bed, and I kissed him like he was all I had left in the world. And maybe he was. Maybe he was.

Ralph moaned beneath me, mouths working furiously against each other. My fingertips dug into his chest, gripped at his shirt, tearing, ripping. Ralph slid his own hands up the back of my shirt, nails scratching at the bare skin there, tracing over my hips and along my waistband.

"I want you," he gasped, hips grinding against me as I straddled him, lips moving over the soft skin of his neck, up, down, biting, sucking. "Oh, Jack, please."

I pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. And in that moment, everything was perfect, and nothing else mattered except him and I. Then I leaned in to press my lips to his once again, and lost myself to the ecstasy.

**A/N: Okay, there might be ONE more...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, I really think this is going to be the last chapter. As always, I do not own LotF, and this has been written for my darling Sheridan, the Ralph to my Jack. Who happens to be sitting right next to me, but is writing a paper instead of building a fire. I guess she could use it for fuel….**

I'd never really been a fan of mornings. Waking up was how most of my bad days started. Staying in bed, covers pulled up over my head to block out the sunlight pouring in, staying asleep and ignoring the anxiety beast, that was the easier way to do things.

When my eyes fluttered open upon another dawning, I was fully prepared to squeeze them shut as tightly as I could and just pretend. Surely pretending was for the best. Because the fact of the matter was that, most days, it wasn't ever worth waking up. Not to face the pain and the regret and that fucking voice in my head.

That was before. Then I felt the soft breaths tickling the skin of the crook of my neck, and I felt the fingertips resting lightly upon my bare chest, and a thousand blurred visions of the night before came flooding back into my mind.

Angling my head just so, carefully, my blue eyes settled on the sleeping form at my side. Ralph's chest rose and fell with all his little breaths. I couldn't help but smile at him, because I'd never seen him look so peaceful. I wondered what images played across his mind, behind closed eyes. If he was plagued by haunted dreams, or if, maybe, at my side, he'd found some peace.

I couldn't bring myself to wake him, not yet. Pressing my lips softly to his forehead, I settled back into the mattress, drawing circled over the back of his hand with my own fingers.

And everything felt right. Years and years of hatred and nostalgia and wishing I'd told him when I had the chance, and now he was here. Curled up against my side, bodies all entwined. Ralph was here, with me, and that was all there was to it.

The night had been perfect, like a dream. Every touch, every kiss and gasp for breath still lingered in the air around us. Gently, I brought his hand up to my lips to kiss soft skin. Held it tightly in my own. I was never letting go.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Ralph," I whispered into the nothing, even though he was sleeping and couldn't hear me anyway. In the back of my mind, the beast was sleeping too, giving me peace, at least for now. "I'm sorry for all of it. I just…I want you to know that I wont let anything bad happen to you. Not anymore. I'll keep you safe somehow."

In his sleep, he gave a little shudder against me. Like maybe he was cold, but we were covered in a pile of blankets and our flesh had practically melted into one another.

"I love you, Ralph."

With a satisfied smile upon my lips, I closed my eyes and tried to find slumber of my own. Ralph's fingers twitched in my grasp, a silent, unconscious promise that he wasn't letting go either. Not this time. This time we would hold on, because we needed each other. Because love like this didn't simply go away.

His tiny, stolen breaths tickled my skin as we lay in the silence. "I love you too, Jack," he murmured against my shoulder. "I always have."

**END**


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